


i think i might've dreamt you

by moodyreindeer



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Eddie Diaz Gets a Backstory, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21876433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodyreindeer/pseuds/moodyreindeer
Summary: Eddie has never been a religious man, but Evan Buckley still answers all his prayers.
Relationships: Eddie Diaz/Shannon Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 32
Kudos: 385





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first fic of 2020 - woop woop
> 
> a very unrealistic take on how "eddie begins" could go, including some eventual buddie development.

Eddie Diaz spent the first eighteen years of his life flying under the radar. With two older sisters and one younger one, he found himself suffering from Middle Child Syndrome as soon as Gracie was born. Between Gracie being less than a year old, Anna running herself ragged with college admission essays, and Olivia working third shift at the counseling center to help pay the bills on top of classes at the community college, Eddie fell by the wayside. 

He didn’t mind it - the distraction of a new baby and trudging up the funds to send another person to college was actually welcome. The bustle of the household stopped his mother from asking about Junie and Delilah (who were just friends, no matter how badly his mother wanted him to have a date for the junior prom) and his father from passive-aggressively trying to make him join a school sports team (the competitions on the park blacktop with his buddies from the neighborhood were good enough for Eddie). Sometimes he was asked to hold the baby while his mother made up a bottle or Olivia had him help unload and take care of groceries, but the expectations of him were minimal, allowing Eddie to spend his last years as a teenager whatever way he wanted. 

He got a job at the same diner as Junie and Delilah; he spent his weekends at the movies or on the basketball court, teamed up with his childhood friends to take on the loudmouth guys from across town who thought they were tough shit just because they had their own hoops at home; he did his homework just well enough to keep the teachers from hounding him but not so good that he made the honor roll or anything (that kind of academic fame was for true geeks, like Anna and Olivia). Really, he had a lot of time to himself to do whatever he wanted as long as he didn’t end up in a holding cell. 

So much free time gave Eddie’s thoughts room to run wild, especially the ones he’d rather stay locked up. Like how he was only a year behind Anna and would soon have to start worrying about things like SAT scores and college applications and admission essays and money to pay for it all. Like how people had been expecting him to know what to do with the rest of his life since he was a freshman and he actually had no clue what kind of career he wanted to pursue. Like how time was running out for Eddie to have a game plan on how to be a person for the rest of his life. 

Eddie was good in school - he didn’t flunk tests and he turned his assignments in on time, had a decent attendance record and had only gotten detention a handful of times (all for worthy causes, too, but it's not like the teachers asked for his opinion as they wrote him up). But he wasn’t like his older sisters; he did school because he had to, not because he enjoyed it. He didn’t particularly love any subject over the others, like Olivia’s passion for biology and Anna’s love of poetry. He couldn’t see himself devoting another four years and decades of his adulthood to specializing in something. He just didn’t have a dream, not the kind that everyone wanted him to have - the kind he was supposed to have. He couldn’t picture himself walking into a house he owned, returning from a job he mildly enjoyed, to a family he built with someone he loved. Eddie didn’t have a knack for imagining the future. Most times, he tried not to think about the passage of time, how every year he grew older and closer to the point where his family and society expected him to function on his own, like an actual human being.

There was no denying he had physical talents, though. Besides his weekly basketball tournaments in the park, he sometimes walked to school early and spent time in the weight room, blanking his mind with lifting and running. He was strong, sturdy, good with his hands and not the type to complain about manual labor while he did it. 

But his parents made it clear they expected greatness from their children. They would never come out and spit on professions like janitor or electrician directly, but they heavily implied they didn’t see much value in a job that didn’t require a degree. His mother always thought a degree equalled safety; his father thought capable Latinos were Latinos with degrees, and the ones who stopped at high school were affirming the stereotypes America held against the Latin population.

As his mother began leaving his sisters' old college brochures in his room, each paragraph bragging about wonderful campuses and small class sizes tightening around his neck like a noose, Eddie turned to the military.

His father had been thrilled when he announced he signed up for JROTC at one of their rare family dinners. Anna and Olivia, indifferent to all the branches of the military, smiled politely and went back to cutting their prime rib. Gracie banged her sippy cup against her high chair tray, gurgling happily and drooling bubbles down her chin, which Eddie took as eager acceptance.

His mother, however, was uncharacteristically silent. 

“Mami?” Eddie tried to meet her gaze, but she kept her eyes fixed on the mountain of peas on her plate.

Sensing the abrupt shift in mood, his older sisters quickly made themselves scarce with flimsy excuses, Olivia plucking Gracie and taking her into the kitchen to clean her off while Anna trailed behind, arms stacked with dirty dishes.

Frowning, his father leaned over and whispered urgently. “Helena, _que paso? Deberíamos estar felices por él, sí?_ ”

With a shuddering breath, she lifted a hand and wiped at her eyes.

“Are you sure that’s what you want, _mijo_?” she asked in a watery voice he only heard at funerals.

Surprisingly, it was. When he’d first slunk into the guidance counselor’s office, sheepishly holding up a program pamphlet and asking about how to get involved, it had felt on par with making a dentist appointment. 

Then he actually started to read about the military. He learned the difference between the branches, the roles of each branch and the rankings. He learned the benefits, listened to the counselor when they listed the pros and cons people generally came up with after graduating from the Junior Reserve Officers’ Training Corps. The more time he devoted to finding out more, the less this decision felt like a chore and more like the first step in the right direction.

For the first time in his life, Eddie could picture himself with a purpose. 

“ _Si, Mami_ ,” he answered confidently. “This is what I want.” 

Helena sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes, then released the breath as she opened her eyes. “Okay, mijo. Whatever you want to do, I’ll stand by you.”

Her chin wobbled when she spoke, but she smiled at him as soon as the words were out of her mouth, the sight of the trembling grin enough to loosen the knot that had formed in his chest since his sisters made their exit. 

* * *

The more he trained, and the more fellow JROTC trainees his mother met, the more Helena adjusted to the thought of him serving. His dedication to it was undeniable. He maintained his grades to graduate on time and spent any moment not eating or studying working out, building up muscle and endurance. 

By senior year he’d bulked up considerably. With his new body, girls began to flock to him, seeking him out in between classes, at lunch, even at the parties he occasionally went to. It wasn’t that he’d been unattractive before, but he hadn’t had the obvious physical strength and rough exterior that girls seemed to want. 

His small circle of friends loved the sudden attention their improved buddy brought up, all except for Junie and Delilah, who couldn’t care less about his new physique or career path, more focused on making him finish senior year with some semblance of a social life. 

“Does your newfound fame mean you’re actually gonna participate in things now?” Junie teased one day during lunch. The boldest of the group, she attacked her portion of greasy cafeteria tater tots with vigor, drowning them in watery ketchup before popping it into her mouth.

Delilah immediately latched onto the conversation, having previously been zoned out as she attempted to finish her required reading for next period. “Oh, yeah, Eds, you have to! It’s senior year.” She said it as if this last year meant something special, and weren't just another year of high school like they last three they had suffered through.

Eddie picked at his own lunch, the only one of their small group who brought food from home. “I do stuff,” he insisted defensively, tearing the crust off his sandwich. “I go to the dances. I’ve even been to a football game.”

Said game had been two years ago on a first date that led nowhere, but it still counted.

Junie rolled her eyes, taking her spork and methodically mashing her remaining tater tots into hashbrowns and mixing it with the ketchup. “Those don’t count.”

Delilah nodded emphatically, beginning to vibrate in her seat. “Yeah, you have to go to the stuff that’s actually fun.”

"Like what?”

“Senior Ditch Day, Senior Celebration Night, the camping trip…” Delilah ticked off the events on her neon-painted nails, then waggled her thin fingers in his face. “We’re talking about the cream of the crop of events here, Ed. These are things we never got to do as underclassmen or juniors, and once we graduate, we’ll never get to do them again!”

“If you don’t agree to go,” Junie threatened casually around a mouthful of ketchup and grease, “we’ll just force you to come anyway, which won’t be nearly as much fun. So do us all a favor and just say yes.”

Which is how Eddie found himself hanging out near the food table at Senior Celebration Night reluctantly wearing a green glow necklace. He was on his third cup of flavorless punch, watching Junie and Delilah dominate the dance floor as he stuffed himself with generic snack foods for something to do.

He didn’t notice the willowy girl at his elbow until she said something.

“You’re certainly the life of the party, huh, Diaz?”

He jumped, narrowly avoiding spilling his refilled cup as he turned to look at the girl beside him. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t put a name to her face. The fact that she seemed to know him only made him feel guilty, but he'd been rapidly gaining popularity recently and couldn't keep track of all the people who suddenly took interest in him after years of going to the same school.

“This isn’t really my kind of scene,” he said, leaning over to be heard over the music - loud dance music from the eighties playing out of shitty static speakers. From this close, only inches apart from brushing noses, he could make out the glint of lip gloss and the sparkle of thick glittery eyeshadow painted underneath thick eyebrows.

Her lips quirked up in a smirk. “Mine either. But senior year, ya know?”

He nodded, smiling for the first time all night. “Yeah, I know.”

She tilted her head in the general direction of the door, lifting a hand to place on his arm. Despite the warmth of the crowded gym, her palm was cool on his skin. “I’m Shannon, by the way. Wanna go somewhere and talk?”

Eddie downed the rest of his punch before tossing the cup in the nearby trash can. “Lead the way.”

He had no way of knowing he would date Shannon for the rest of senior year, or that they would tie the knot after his first tour in Afghanistan. He had no way of knowing that nine months after they have sex on their two year anniversary Shannon would give birth to an impossibly small baby, after hours of complications, that they would name Christopher. 

Eddie had no way of knowing that Senior Celebration Night would be the first step toward becoming the type of man he never pictured himself becoming, with the type of life everyone had always wanted for him but he’d never actually thought he’d have.

That night, he was just an army man in the making, following a girl with big brown eyes and a swishing floral dress into the warm, star-speckled night. 

* * *

Eddie graduated high school, made it through basic training, and even graduated from boot camp in time to spend Christmas with his family before he received his first orders. Through those six months, Shannon remained by his side, writing him as many letters as his mother did, even spraying the bottom of some with the perfume she always wore. Some letters were short, a brief summary of what she was up to, how her job at the library was going and how she felt about her classes at the community college. Others were longer, going on for pages about how proud she was of him, how much she missed him, everything she planned to do with him when he could stay home for a while. 

He did what the other men with partners waiting back home did - read them in the barracks before lights out; bragged about them over quick meals in the mess hall before drills; kept them close in his pack, along with a picture she sent him so she was always close. 

He tried writing a few back to Shannon and his mother, but Eddie was never the best at articulating his feelings. With his mother it was easier because he knew what she wanted to hear and what to keep to himself because it would just worry her. Shannon was different because she was his girlfriend - no matter how much relief just hearing from him might have brought her, Eddie knew she was also expecting a little bit of romance mixed in with the daily reports. 

He did his best (even signing them _Love, E.D_ , a word he’s only ever said to family), but knew his letters didn’t measure up to the ones he received from her.

Before he left for his first tour (Australia, only for six months, the cushiest assignment a man could ask for), he made it up to her by buying her a gold necklace with a rose pendant and matching earrings. He even had his initials written along the back of the stem.

“So I’ll always be with you,” he told her, not even getting through half the sentence without blushing.

She thanked him by leading him to the bedroom and telling him to strip.

He showed up half an hour late to his family’s own Christmas party, cheeks still flushed, feeling like he still reeked of sex despite scrubbing himself raw in the shower. Shannon was by his side, smugly holding his hand and beaming at every relative that greeted them. It felt like she was showing him off, trying to announce to the entire room what they spent the last hour doing, and Eddie couldn’t help but avoid people’s eyes when they looked at him, feeling ashamed although he didn’t understand why. 

Sending him to Australia had a lot more fanfare than dropping him off at boot camp did. Same airport, same people lined up to say goodbye, but there were a lot more tears and longer hugs as he waited outside his gate. The easiest farewell was Shannon, which took him by surprise when he thought back on it later, trying to settle into his seat. Her eyes were watery, but she hadn’t openly given into the tears like his mother and even his father had. Her face was dry and her lips were soft, like she’d prepped them just for that very moment so he knew what he had waiting back home for him. 

She still wrote him letters, but they weren’t as long and dreamy as the ones she sent him during training were. These were more confident, direct, almost like a drill sergeant delivering instructions - no choice but to follow them, because they were in charge. 

Shannon had recently bought an apartment near the community college; her parents had finally retired, packed up their things and headed to California, and this way Shannon could save money and just walk to school instead of buying a car and needing gas money. Eddie would move in with her once he got back, because he was only doing the Army thing temporarily, right?

He would have to get a job, too, so they could get a car to share, because they were in this for the long haul, weren’t they?

Eddie didn’t write back and tried not to feel guilty about it. He still carried her letters in his pack along with her picture, but he didn’t look at them as often as the other guys did. They spent hours looking at their letters and photos, tracing their loves’ faces with dirtied fingertips and eyes that were desperate to cry but didn’t.

Truthfully, he didn’t even miss her, which he felt horrible admitting, even if it was only to himself. He thought about her every day, but not in the way he should have been. Instead of picturing her, trying to conjure an image strong enough to make it feel like she was there with him, all Eddie could think about was how she’d planned his entire life for him without even asking what he wanted. 

Guilt gnawed at him, growing with every letter Shannon sent him and every letter he sent to his mother. It grew when he looked at the homesick expressions on his comrades’ faces. But the worst of it came when he would shower in the communal bathroom with a dozen or so other men (again, god bless Australia - hot showers were not a rarity when you were on headquarter grounds) and feel something hot and curious pool in his gut, tugging his dick’s interest when he spotted thick muscles, defined abs, the hint of thick happy trails leading to limp cocks.

(He did his level best not to look, but it was hard when naked men in peak physical condition surrounded him on every side, wet and dripping in the steam of their showers.)

It wasn’t that he was homophobic - he wasn’t. Years of being friends Delilah and Junie exposed him to the queer underbelly of their school, showing him just how common and normal it was to like whoever. He didn’t think his family was homophobic. They weren’t as Catholic as his abuela wished they would be - they went to midnight mass on Christmas and put something on the communion plate at Easter, but that was the extent of the Diaz family’s religious actions. His sisters were fine with gay people, if not indifferent because it wasn’t an issue that directly affected them. His parents were harder to get a read on, being from an older generation and raised in moderately conservative households, but Delilah and Junie were always invited to stay for dinner when they hung out with Eddie, and it only took two seconds of seeing them in the same room to know they were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

If he was gay - or bi or whatever - it probably wouldn’t be the end of the world, but he would spend the rest of his life feeling like the people closest to him were talking behind his back. 

Not that it mattered. Homosexuality didn’t fit into The Plan - his parents’ plan, Shannon’s plan, society’s plan for an All-American army man.

Ready to burst with all his guilty thoughts, Eddie returned from his first tour with the conviction of a sinner marching to confession. He would tell Shannon everything, he promised himself. He owed it to her, after all - this was the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

But any plans of clearing his conscience went out the window when he saw Shannon waiting for him by baggage claim, her hand proudly resting on the baby bump protruding from her flowing shirt.

* * *

Against the advice of everyone, Eddie signed up for another tour. This time two years, stationed in Afghanistan - the exact opposite of the luxurious hand he’d been dealt his first tour, but Eddie treated the assignment with equal vigor all the same.

He waited until Shannon gave birth, then through the cerebral palsy diagnosis and first dozen of hospital visits, but it was only three months after Christopher entered the world that Eddie decided he needed to be oceans away from his newborn son.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love his son. No birth complications or resulting disabilities could have kept Christopher from getting his father’s heart, wholly and unconditionally.

It was Shannon. Shannon wanting him to get a job, Shannon pressing him for money and security, Shannon telling him to be a stay-at-home dad while she finished her courses at the community college. She was pulling him in too many directions at once, and he could feel the pressure of it all threatening to smash him into the ground. It made him feel unworthy and useless, like he didn’t have what it took to be a good partner. A good father.

Logically, he knew this wasn’t true. He was the one who spent the long night hours rocking Christopher back to sleep; the one who carefully measured out the medications and made sure the dosages weren’t spit back up as soon as they were administered; the one who begged his mother to unearth all his old baby things because she was a sentimental hoarder and had all of her childrens’ lives tucked away in the attic or garage. But Shannon always wanted more, pushing him to give something - what, exactly, he didn’t know, but he had a sneaking suspicion that whatever he gave wouldn’t be enough.

She wasn’t thrilled when Eddie told her he was leaving again - Afghanistan, this time for two years. He expected tears, maybe some emotional hitting, but he wasn’t expecting the mixture of anger and smugness that crossed her face as soon as he’d given the news. Like he had just proved a point she was trying to make and was pissed about it. 

“The benefits will cover the cost of the hospital visits,” he reminded her as she sat at their small dining table, arms crossed with one leg furiously tapping away. “You just graduated your courses, so it’s not like we’ll be scrambling to look for a babysitter.”

“I don’t want to have to rely on just your military benefits, Eddie!” She’d argued that she wanted better for their son than just the military family programs that Texas offered, giving out food and clothing to families with members overseas. “Excuse me for wanting a more luxurious life for our son!”

Their son wasn’t even ninety days old yet, so Eddie doubted that luxury mattered to Christopher as long as he was warm, clean, and fed.

Christopher was just a scapegoat anyway. When she spoke, Eddie heard what she really meant - _I want a more luxurious life for me_. 

“Then you can look for a job. Plenty of places hire people with fresh degrees. And I’m sure my parents would love to spend time with their grandson during the day.”

Shannon blew out a heavy breath and cut her eyes away to glare at the scratched surface of the table.

Eddie dropped down to his knees. “I know it’s hard being away from each other. I hate leaving you, and I hate the thought of being years away from my son. But we have to face facts, Shan. There aren’t many places looking to hire someone with just a high school degree. And El Paso isn’t exactly a huge labor market anyway. Just give me this one last time to keep us comfortable for a little while, then we’ll make a game plan when I’m back.” 

He tried to meet her eyes, but Shannon kept glaring at the table.

Finally, she dropped her arms. She was still tense, her anger nearly palpable, but she forced a tight smile on her face and gave him a stiff affirmation. The issue was clearly far from settled in her mind, but in the two weeks before he was due to fly out, she never brought it up again, so neither did he.

When they said goodbye, the only tears shed were the ones Eddie had while kissing his son before he got on the plane.

* * *

Thousands of miles away from home, hands soiled with blood, thoughts devoured by depressing, existential blackness, desperately alone and surrounded by dozens of men just as broken as himself, it was easy to dream himself the perfect life.

It was a life centuries beyond the cracked ground he slept on, pack stuffed under his head in a dismal attempt at a pillow. It included his son, no longer a tiny pink baby swathed in blue but a bubbly young man with soft curls and eyes that always smiled. It included a house, maybe two stories, definitely with a big front lawn and a decent backyard patio for large family parties. It included a king-sized bed and a kitchen with a window he could look out of as he drank a cup of coffee in the morning.

Most importantly, he didn’t live this perfect life alone. Always featureless, standing just out of view, a comforting presence in the corner of his subconscious eye, was a person to kiss him good morning, pack lunches when he got up a little too late, greet him home from work, falling asleep pressed against him at night.

He tried to convince himself it was Shannon. Shannon, the mother of his newly born son, not even a year old. Shannon, who’d he known since Senior Celebration Night in high school. Shannon, who was kind enough to wait for him while he played hero for the country but couldn’t even save himself.

But in the throes of those idyllic dreams, stubble would rub against his face, rubbing his cheek raw. A strong calloused hand as big as his own wrapped around his hip. A teasing cock nudged against his thigh, his ass, threatening to slip inside. Somehow the hormone-infested fantasies he had in high school and pushed into the darkest recesses of his mind had erupted in the last place they needed to be, amidst the death and tragedy of war-torn Afghanistan, a world away from the wife and son he had waiting for him.

In high school, it was easier to brush aside. After all, it took two to tango in porn. He couldn’t help it if the guy railing the heavy-breasted girl on screen also caught his attention - it was a small screen and both actors were attractive, he could admit that, he had _eyes_. 

In Afghanistan, it was a bigger reach, but he still managed to latch onto some excuse. He was surrounded by men, mostly. Women were scarce and kept their hair up, faces guarded and stony. War did that - covered everyone in dirt and rubble, stripping emotion until you were just a machine, moving from one target to the next, the only goal being survival. There was no room for femininity, and the idea of Shannon’s floral dresses and rosy cheeks and soft curls became harder to recall, even if his desire for sexual intimacy loomed closer on lonely nights. His brain, lacking in a sufficient image of a woman, used the masculine figures around him to supply his needs. It would go away once his wife was back in his arms - it had to, so it would.

* * *

Eddie came out of his last tour feeling like he was wearing someone else’s skin. His family threw a small barbeque to celebrate his honors - a Silver Star for saving his convoy, which of course provoked a bunch of questions and praises that made him relive the event and feel like throwing up all his internal organs. He supposed that one day he’d be able to tell the story without breaking into a sweat, but the memory was still so fresh, so painfully vivid, that his mind convinced his body they were back in that moment every time someone brought it up. 

Shannon put on smiles for all their friends and family, hovering nearby bouncing a two-year-old Christopher on her hip as Eddie spoke with people, answering their wide-eyed questions of what it was like to serve, but she felt distant. It took an hour before she even handed Christopher over to Eddie, no matter how much Eddie hinted at wanting to hold him or Christopher would giggle and reach his arms toward him. He convinced himself that Shannon was just nervous about how Christopher react, being held by a man he’d only seen pictures of for the past two years. But his son curled into his arms as soon as he was passed over, like he’s spent every day in his father’s arms instead of just a handful of times, and Eddie felt something in his chest loosen as Christopher smiled up at him. Shannon seemed to relax after that, floating through the party with noticeably less tension, but she was silent on the ride home.

Eddie just blamed it on exhaustion.

For four years, Eddie thought their life had finally smoothed out. His time as an army medic gave him some medical knowledge, enough for him to get a gig at a retirement center as an assistant nurse. It wasn’t the most glamorous job - for eight hours a day, four days a week, he gave old people their medication and cleaned up their accidents and helped the more feeble ones get in their daily exercise, often getting called the wrong name or mistaken for a son that never visits. But the perks outweighed whatever boredom he felt in the slow hours or disgust that overcame him when cleaning up spittle and urine. The staff was nice, especially the three managers, who were sympathetic to his son’s medical needs and gave him a flexible schedule. Even the patients were friendly, even more so when they found out he served. He was often regaled with war stories from World War II or Vietnam or Korea. 

Most importantly, the job paid well, which seemed to excite Shannon to no end. As soon as he’d brought home his first paycheck, she burst into tears and took him into the bedroom. Her grateful, contented mood lasted up until Christopher’s fifth birthday. They went all out with a Transformers-themed party and a huge guest list, inviting his entire preschool class along with family and neighborhood kids. Eddie thought her shuttered expression and exhausted posture was just from all the entertaining throughout the day, that all she needed was a good night’s sleep.

Until the next morning when she greeted him at the breakfast table with a packed bag in hand, telling him with dry eyes that she needed to get away for a while.

“Will you be coming back?” he’d asked, because it was the only thing he could think to say in that moment.

She twisted her lips and gave a forlorn shrug, as if she was just as put out as he was. “Maybe. I want to, eventually. I just...need some time to breathe.”

Her mother's sick, so Shannon went to her. She promised to call, then left him to wake up their son all by himself.

Maybe he overcompensated when he returned home. Maybe Shannon felt suffocated. Maybe he was unrecognizable, a different person - a different creature - in the new postwar era of his life. Maybe she fell out of love after all the times he fled from their life together. Maybe she never loved him at all, but didn’t want to be the bitch that left an army man when he left for war, taking his baby with her. Maybe maybe maybe.

A million maybes, but he was still left with one unanswered question: _why wasn’t he good enough to stick around for?_

He haunted El Paso, waiting for her to return, even when the phone calls stopped, even when he read her mother’s obituary. Too drained at the thought of spending his days surrounded by people, he quit his job at the nursing home and went to a mechanic’s shop, owned by a family friend; He read Christopher bedtime stories and flagged questions about when Mommy was coming back; he puked violently when he shook awake from nightmares, eyes red with tears too stubborn to spill over.

After a year, he was tired of feeling like he was invading his own life. His skin itched; he hated returning home, looking at the house he and Shannon picked and decorated together. He hated the pitiful looks his parents gave him at Sunday dinner; he hated the way his older sister barged in whenever she wanted, desperate to return her baby brother to who he was before he enlisted. Christopher’s kindergarten teacher called twice a week, voice strained with concern about how quiet his son had gotten, how he’d begun to isolate himself.

They needed a change.

(He needed to run away, just like he always did.)

He thought of Los Angeles - brimming with sun and beaches and palm trees and lacking in memories, in ghosts. The fact that Shannon always fawned over California when she returned from visiting her retired parents was redundant - the last thing on his mind, really, as he scrolled through apartment listings, promising elementary schools, job opportunities. 

_Away_ was all he could think as he pulled Christopher out of school, put in his two weeks notice, starting stuffing their entire life into boxes.

 _Away_ , he thought as he enrolled in the Los Angeles Firefighter Academy.

 _Away_ , he thought as he pulled onto the interstate, Christopher humming in the backseat, his parents’ angry, devastated faces burned into his brain. 

_As far away as fucking possible_. 

* * *

The transition to Los Angeles went a lot more smoothly than Eddie had anticipated. His abuela and tía welcomed them with open arms, not that he thought they wouldn’t. Christopher took to his new surroundings like a fish in water, coming back from his first day at school tightly gripping a crayon drawing his new friend Darrion made for him. Eddie had no clue what it meant, just saw a rainbow of swirls and geometric shapes, but his son was beaming as he asked Isobel if he could hang it on the fridge. 

Good things kept coming. He found a decent apartment at a cheap price with ramp-accessibility, he graduated from the training academy at the top of his class. Firehouses were actually fighting over who got to have him. 

Eventually, as the weeks kept coming and everything remained relatively successful, he began to let his guard down.

Which, of course, was when the other shoe dropped.

The shoe being a firefighter by the name of Evan Buckley.

It wasn’t enough that Buck was attractive in a golden, blue-eyed Adonis type of way. Or that he was tall and covered in small, endearing tattoos. Or that he was insanely good at his job. But he also, for some unknown reason, hated Eddie on sight. The others, Hen, Chimney, and their captain, Bobby Nash, had no problem welcoming him into the fold, but every time Buck looked at him, it was like he was seeing someone who murdered his puppy.

“He’s not all that bad,” Hen whispered when Buck blew through the kitchen, sitting himself at a smaller round table as Eddie, Hen, and Chimney sat at the main dining table. “He’s just...got a lot going on right now.”

Chimney snorted, leaning back in his chair and casually tossing the apple he’d just shined on his shirt up in the air again and again. “Girlfriend left him for Europe,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I’m pretty sure this is the first time the poor guy’s ever been dumped. Not handling it well.”

Hen smacked Chimney, scolding him despite the smile fighting its way across her face. Eddie spent the rest of his lunch looking over at Buck, wondering if a bad break-up was all it was or if the younger man truly believed Eddie was a threat, something to be wary of.

Buck hadn’t eaten, just spent most of their lunch before the alarm cut it off staring blankly at the sandwich he’d halfheartedly made, picking at the crust as his leg bounced restlessly underneath the table. 

Eddie knew that look; the shuttered, numb expression of someone who’d just had the rug pulled out from underneath them. He spent the first months after Shannon left walking around with an identical expression before he forced himself to pull it together for Christopher’s sake.

Looking into those stormy blue eyes unearthed a lot of things Eddie would have rather kept buried. Things he’d managed to keep locked up since coming home from his final tour, since moving to a new city with a clean slate. (Beard burn, big arms, calloused hands, a teasing hard dick twitching against him, just to name a few.) But mostly, it made him angry. Each time he looked over to see that cerulean glare trying to pin him in place, he wanted to push the tall blond against the truck and put an arm to his throat, ask him _what the hell is your problem?_

But it hadn’t even been a week at Station 118 - getting fired so soon would wreck any chance of him building a formidable reputation.

So he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and let it out, and just accepted the fact that he didn’t have to get along with everybody. Not everyone liked all of their coworkers. And besides, no matter how stubborn Buck was, Eddie didn’t believe he was the type of guy to abandon someone in the field. Even if Buck didn’t like him, Eddie knew he could trust him. 

Then it was just the two of them hunched over an old man rigged to explode, bulked up with Kevlar vests and their arms brushing. Despite the unwelcome déjà vu of the battlefield, Eddie felt in his element for the first time all shift, no pressure to impress, just to get the job done.

Buck locked the bomb away; Charlie was safely transported to the hospital. Then it was just the two of them standing in the middle of a parking lot crawling with LA’s finest, looking at each other with wide eyes as their bodies pumped with adrenaline. 

“You’re a badass under pressure, brother,” he told him. It was the truth, but most importantly, he felt like it was something Buck needed to hear.

It was the first time Buck ever smiled at him, and Eddie knew it wouldn’t be something he’d forget any time soon.

“Me?” A shy smile, the first look beyond the cocky facade.

“Yeah. You can have my back any time.”

“Or, you know,” Buck said, a little breathless, eyes sparkling impossibly in the nighttime, “you could have mine.”

 _Oh, fuck_ , Eddie would think later as he looked back on that moment, Christopher long since tucked into bed and his alarm set to wake him up four hours from then. Because the anger was gone and his dick hadn’t perked with interest, but something else, something a little more dangerous than lust and violence, curled in his stomach at the thought of his gorgeous new partner. _Fucking shit_. 

It went downhill from there.


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie thought about Buck more than he should. He thought about him after rough calls, when he couldn’t sleep at night, when Christopher asked to go to the park, when he was making dinner. He wondered how he was feeling, if he was eating enough, drinking enough water, not pushing himself too hard, if he would get tired of being invited on so many weekend outings with Christopher and Eddie.

The first months of their friendship, it was easy to convince himself his thoughts constantly strayed to Buck out of friendly concern. It was no secret that the younger man was basically a superhero, only lacking a cape to pull off the title. But the more calls they went on, the clearer it became Buck was determined to save everyone but himself. He had no sense of self-preservation, too impatient for caution or strategy. His heroics would be more endearing if they didn’t give Eddie a heart attack every time it took him a breath longer than necessary to emerge from a collapsing building. 

But Eddie knew what having friends was like. He’d had friends in El Paso. Friends from high school, from his after-school job, from around the neighborhood. After he enlisted, he saw those friends less and less until his social circle was largely Shannon and army buddies. Even then, he didn’t really rely on them like a friend should - he held them at arm’s length, just close enough to not feel lonely but still stay alone. He loved them like family, but he didn’t spend every spare moment of his time thinking about them and what they were doing. 

(Especially not while in the shower, eyes closed as he slowly jerked himself off with a soap-sudsy hand as he pictured Buck on his knees, plush red lips open wide. He had never even fantasized about Shannon, because he knew what her breasts looked like, if she was shaved or patchy with coarse hair. Nothing about her body was a mystery; not knowing what Buck looks like strewn out on a bed waiting for him was one of the thoughts that kept him up at night.)

Buck was different from his other friends; he fit into Eddie’s life seamlessly, almost terrifyingly so. He pushed the right amount, engaging him in back and forths with twinkling eyes and plump lips curved into a teasing smirk. He fell into step beside Eddie without thought, easy as breathing. He knew what Eddie needed better than Eddie did. 

But what really mattered was that Buck adored Christopher, undoubtedly more than he liked Eddie. The more times Buck came over, the more comfortable Christopher grew around Buck, who wasn’t that familiar with the concept of Eddie having people who weren’t family around, and the more obvious it was that his son was equally as smitten with the younger fireman. 

Back in El Paso, trying to establish a relationship with his son after being away for such long periods of time, Eddie would have chafed at the idea of another man being as close with his son as he was - maybe even closer. But the more he watched Buck with Christopher - swinging him in the air like Superman, playing with Legos, watching Disney movies on the couch - the more evidence Eddie acquired that proved he never had a chance. Everybody loved Buck - he couldn’t help but draw people to him. Men, women - children and animals were especially fond of him. Something about how Buck was so openly friendly and sweet despite being tall and muscular drew them into his orbit, his unawareness of his giant physical appearance negating how intimidating he could appear from a distance.

During Buck’s phase with Ali, Eddie wondered if Buck would ever have a kid of his own. He seemed unhurried to start a family, but there was no denying the content expression he adopted whenever he hung out with Christopher or entertained children on calls to soothe their nerves. Buck was the kind of guy meant to be a father. Not like Eddie, who was thrown into the role with no warning and had to make it up as he went along.

He knew a child would make Buck happy, but he wasn’t eager for the day to come that Buck would get his own with a strange, theoretical woman. Eddie was content to share Christopher with Buck, even if Buck insisted he was just a good friend.

Eddie thought of broaching the topic of the future as he entered Buck’s building one day. They both had the day off and were hanging out while Christopher was at a day camp. It seemed only fair, considering how open the rest of the team was about their long-term plans - Hen and Karen’s journey for more children, Bobby in talks with Athena about helping out with May’s college fund, Chimney trying to be nonchalant (and failing) about looking at engagement ring catalogues. Eddie was often pestered about when he would return to the dating scene now that it was almost a year after Shannon’s death. He waved the questions away, feeling only a little bad about using Christopher as an excuse. But whenever those conversations about the future came up, the most adult conversations to be had in between calls, Buck quietly sat on the sidelines. At some point before Eddie arrived the rest of the 118 must have gotten the hint that discussing the future with Buck was not a favored subject, but Eddie wouldn’t let that stop him.

They were best friends, after all. If Buck couldn’t trust him with his thoughts and fears about adulthood, who could he trust?

Early for their plans to hang out, Eddie let himself in with his key. He went to announce his arrival but stopped, hearing the sound of quiet, off-key humming. Walking further into the apartment, he caught Buck slowly pacing the length of the living room, gently bouncing a tightly bundled baby in his arms.

He watched for a moment, drinking in the incredibly domestic sight. Buck was humming, a ballad Eddie knew but couldn’t name, smiling and eyes shining as the baby cooed in his arms. A tiny hand poked out of the blanket, small fingers grasping air, and Buck easily shifted the bundle so the baby could grasp his pinkie and happily settle. 

Eddie had seen Buck with babies before. On calls, with Christopher, at the park when curious babies peer out from strollers or over their mothers’ shoulders. It was different, however, to awkwardly linger in the archway as Buck soothed a baby in his own home, looking totally entranced by the small human in his arms. It felt like he was intruding.

(It felt like he was watching his future play out in front of him.)

“Buck?” Eddie called out after a moment. He felt slightly guilty for interrupting such a tender moment, but that guilt melted as Buck turned toward him, eyes lit up.

“Eddie, I want you to meet somebody.” Gently pulling his finger from the baby’s tiny grasp, he crooked a finger to where his partner leaned against the doorway.

As if attached to a string, Eddie stepped forward. Buck widened his stance, turning his body so Eddie could get a better look. Unable to help himself, Eddie leaned down to smile as the baby looked curiously up at him, gurgling excitedly. Her big blue eyes were even the same shade as Buck’s.

“Hi, there, honey,” Eddie greeted her, then flicked his eyes up to Buck as he teased, “is my son not enough for your baby fever anymore?”

Buck beamed, returning his finger back to the baby, who had attempted to make grabby hands for it while swaddled in her duck-patterned blanket. “You know Christopher’s my favorite. I’m just hanging out with Lily while her parents are at the hospital.” He scrunched his nose and rubbed it against Lily’s forehead, making her laugh loudly. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

Buck looked up, mouth posed to say something, then his gaze locked onto Eddie’s face and he suddenly froze before his face crumpled in regret. “Eddie, I totally forgot we made plans! Delaney and Eric showed up at my door and Eric was holding his side and they needed to - ”

“Hey hey hey. Breathe.” Eddie placed a stabilizing hand on Buck’s shoulder, feeling the tremors of anxiety run up his arm as Buck began bouncing in place, much faster than Lily was comfortable with. She opened her mouth, prepared to make her discomfort known, when Buck forced himself to relax and return to his slow bouncing, anticipating her needs much faster than Eddie had ever managed to do when Christopher was so small.

Bright blue eyes glanced at the door over Eddie’s shoulder. “Maybe I can get Debbie to watch Lily until her parents get back.”

Assuming Debbie was another neighbor, Eddie entertained the idea of once again having a whole afternoon of Buck to himself. He hadn’t really had a plan in mind, and Buck, always one to have drawn a blueprint up of any outings in advance, hadn’t mentioned wanting to do anything. They probably would have just stayed in and watched bad comedies while drinking beer and eating pizza. Eddie could have done as much alone on his own couch, but Buck’s presence was always soothing, no matter what they were doing.

But as soon as the idea of leaving Lily on this mysterious Debbie’s doorstep popped into his head, Eddie dismissed it. He was in his thirties, for God’s sake, and not about to let himself be jealous of a baby.

“And kick Lily out? No way.” Eddie brushed a gentle finger against the top of her head, feeling the soft fuzz of new hair, and smiled up at Buck. “I’m sure we can find something fun to do inside with little miss here.”

“Really?” Buck asked, biting his bottom lip.

Eddie nodded. “Really.”

Buck relaxed, his shoulders descending from where they climbed around his neck. “Thanks, man.”

Eddie didn’t really know what he was being thanked for, but he was too distracted by the toothy grin of appreciation Buck shot his way to ask.

They ended up raiding Delaney and Eric’s apartment (since Buck was given the spare for baby supplies) and grabbing things to set up a play area for Lily. They spread out a soft padded play mat and let Lily crawl around. She occasionally batted at the little mobile they’d also swiped from her nursery, but mostly she seemed content to explore, gurgling grumpily when one of them would stop her from gumming the coffee table or sticking her little fingers in the gaming console.

When her parents came to pick her up, eights hours later with her father sporting a thick abdominal wrap around his ribs, Eddie was a little sad to see her go. He’d forgotten how much he’d liked when Christopher was a baby.

Buck leaned against the door as they bid the small family unit goodbye. He looked exhausted, but undeniably happy.

“Thanks so much, man.” Buck clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a tired grin. “I know that wasn’t how you planned on spending your afternoon.”

Eddie shrugged him off with a smile of his own. “You don’t have to thank me, Buck. It was a baby, not exactly armageddon.”

It wasn’t like he could complain - the afternoon gave him delightful images to savor, like Buck changing diapers, testing baby formula, and humming a fussy baby to sleep. It made his heart ache, but also had him swooning on his feet.

“Still, let me make it up to you? Movie marathon with beer and pizza from that mom and pop place you like?”

Eddie pretended to think about it. “Make it Marvel movies and you got a deal.”

Buck laughed and held out his hand to shake. “Deal.”

* * *

For all the similarities that LA disasters could have to a war zone, Eddie had managed to go a year in Los Angeles without having his past rudely sneak up and take him by surprise. 

He stood in the bathroom, gripping the edges of the sink in white-knuckled fists, but his entire body still managed to shake. He knew if he looked up, he would see the bloodshot eyes and deep purple bags of his reflection looking back at him, so he kept his head down, focused on the slight rust stain building around the rim of the drain.

 _I should scrub that soon_ , he thought. Then flinched as another explosion went off above him.

Eddie fucking despised New Years. 

New Years, Fourth of July, even Labor Day - he had them marked on his calendars in bright red Sharpie to warn himself. Over the years he’d established a kind of routine: get Christopher into bed early, put in earplugs, down some melatonin, then crawl underneath the covers while the sky exploded hours into the night. It wasn’t the most effective plan. He still woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and shaking uncontrollably, but most nights he could control the urge to vomit.

Tonight was not one of those nights. He hadn’t even been able to hold his toothbrush to get the taste of bile out of his mouth, his shaking was so bad.

He didn’t know the time, didn’t even glance at the clock in his mad dash to the bathroom, but it was late enough that the fireworks had finally stopped. 

He should be fine. They were over. 

But he still felt like the house was rumbling around him, threatening to concave. His arms were wet, drenched in phantom blood all the way to his elbows like a gruesome pair of gloves. 

“Eddie.” 

He whipped around, jumping like he was shot, mouth dropping open a little at the sight of his best friend in the door. Buck was sporting a massive case of bedhead, his dark blond curls matted in some places and sticking straight up in others; his shirt and sweats were wrinkled under the jacket he must’ve thrown on just to drive over.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie croaked, his mouth and throat made of sand.

Buck slowly stepped inside the room, giving Eddie time to step away; he didn’t. “Superman heard you needed saving. He called me in for reinforcements.”

“He shouldn’t have stolen my phone,” was all Eddie could reply with, but he didn’t really care about Christopher sneaking behind his back - he just cared that his son had caught him in such a weak and horrible moment. He turned back to the sink, back to the rust stain, foolishly hoping Buck hadn’t seen the red, puffy wetness of his face.

“Punish him tomorrow.” Buck was only a step away; Eddie could reach out and grab him if he only he could get control of his damn arms. “No whipped cream with his waffles.”

Eddie tried to laugh, but it came out like he was choking. “That’s not a punishment.”

“Obviously, you don’t know how much he loves whipped cream.” Buck looked at him in the mirror. Eddie could feel the burn of his gaze bouncing back onto him, but he still kept looking at the sink stain. Maybe if he tried hard enough, it would hypnotize him and he could leave his body for the night.

“Eddie.” Buck’s voice was so gentle, the softest Eddie’s ever heard it. Knowing that it was all for him - all to comfort him, to make him feel _safe_ \- only made him want to cry harder. “I’m here. What do you need?” 

With momentous effort, Eddie finally managed to lift his head. He met Buck’s eyes in the mirror, anxious about what he would see there - pity, maybe. Or even worse, fear; if roles were reversed, Eddie thought he would be afraid of the heaving, shaking mess in front of him. 

But Buck’s eyes were as wide and earnest as ever, glistening with sympathetic tears. His hands twitched at his sides. 

“Can I touch you?” Buck asked, still so gentle.

Sucking in a wet, raspy breath, Eddie nodded.

Buck moved slowly as not to scare him, moving until Eddie’s back was pressed tightly to his front, arms coming up to wrap around him. With the two inches Buck had over him, the blond leaned his head down and buried his face in the crown of his head. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Eddie let himself be guided, back to the rumpled sheets of his bed, kicked off in his hurry to make it to the bathroom in time so he didn’t have to lift puke out of the carpet in the middle of the night (again). Buck had never been in his bedroom before, but he moved with a confidence that hinted at countless nights spent there. Eddie let himself be tucked in like a child, letting out a slow, rattling breath as Buck carefully climbed in behind them and covered them with the comforter.

Shannon never did this, his brain reminded him over and over. She never understood that he was trapped those nights, stuck thousands of miles away during the worst moments of his life, unable to escape the memories. She never said it, but she loathed him for always wanting to leave family barbeques and parties early to avoid the night celebrations. The morning after she would ask him if he took his medication, if he did his breathing exercises the therapist had told him to do during panic attacks.

Those nights she would sleep in Christopher’s room, and he would be alone in the trenches all over again.

Buck said nothing as Eddie continued to shake in his arms, albeit less violently than before. He pressed Eddie’s arms to his chest, boxing him in, surrounding him with his body heat. Underneath the covers, being so close made him swelter, but Eddie wriggled closer, until Buck’s mouth was ghosting against the back of his neck.

He just needed to know he wasn’t alone.

“Tell me a story,” he croaked out suddenly. It had been so long since anything but breathing could be heard that he wondered if Buck was asleep.

But Buck replied without missing a beat. “What kind of story?”

“A happy one. A long one. I don’t care, just keep talking.”

After a few thoughtful seconds, Buck started the story of a princess who was saved by an ugly creature and his loyal, if dense, sidekick, and how their love took the entire kingdom by surprise.

Just before he fell asleep, heartbeat finally calmed enough to let drowsiness kick in, Eddie cut off Buck’s dramatic whispers.

“That’s Shrek.”

Buck giggled, tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. “You said you wanted a happy story. And it’s the only story I know well enough to recite.”

Eddie could feel his lips twitching in a smile. “Dork.”

A laugh huffed against his sweaty skin. “The biggest. Go to sleep.”

* * *

For all the important, if mundane, moments he kept close to his chest - an ever-growing treasure trove, expanding with each moment he got Buck all to himself - Eddie thought he was slick. 

So much happened in between the moments of him falling in love with his best friend that he didn’t think anyone was paying attention to him. First the ladder truck, then watching Buck nearly die at his own party, then the tsunami, the lawsuit, the illegal fighting matches - with the additional chaos happening in their individual lives, Eddie didn’t think it was too far of a stretch for Eddie to be watering up when told the news of the lawsuit, or snapping at Buck when he finally returned.

The year _had_ started out with him losing his wife, after all. He thought that kind of loss did warrant him some slack, a little bit of forgivable emotional turmoil.

(And, fuck, even thinking of using his dead wife as an excuse made him the scum of the earth, but Eddie had already lost one person who he’d thought he’d spent the rest of his life with. It didn’t matter that he’d already made his peace with losing Shannon before she died - no one should have to go through that kind of tragedy more than once in their life. But Buck - easily bruised, thick-skulled, always a hero Buck - didn’t seem to realize how engrained he was in Eddie’s life and just kept nearly dying.)

But it felt like everyone knew how Eddie felt. Like they all saw the lingering touches Eddie couldn’t help himself to steal - thighs pressed together on the couch, a clap on the shoulder resting a beat too long, brushing arms as they walked together up the stairs - and just knew. Everyone but Buck.

Eddie caught Bobby’s gaze as he followed Buck out of the locker room, after tearing his eyes away from the tight curve of Buck’s ass in his uniform slacks.

Hen smirked at him over the rim of her coffee mug as Eddie heaped Buck’s plate with his favorites at a family breakfast.

Chimney raised his eyebrows as Eddie automatically lurched to catch Buck as he stumbled on the last stair, arms reaching out to secure him before the younger man even knew he was falling.

It wasn’t that Eddie thought they’d ostracize him; Hen wouldn’t allow that. It wasn’t even that he believed Buck would reject him. Buck, so sweet and loving, probably the one out of all of them who needed someone to love him the most, was already _his_ , in every sense of the word but the official title. He loved Christopher like he was his own son; he got blessed by Isobel every time he dropped Christopher off before a shift; he knew how Eddie liked his coffee in the morning and where the clean towels went in the bathroom. 

But what if. _What if what if what if_. 

He could be wrong. Maybe Buck was just naturally friendly, the type of person who immediately fell in tune with others. He probably had all the same information catalogued about Maddie’s apartment, and Chimney’s - he’d floated around their houses enough to learn the natural rhythm of them. Maybe Buck would be uncomfortable if he had to reject Eddie - worse, he wouldn’t reject Eddie out of a fear of obligation to Christopher and would spend years of his life in a relationship he didn’t even want. Maybe Bobby would transfer Eddie somewhere else, let Station 6 have him after all, because Buck already has a long history of being manipulated by people who wanted him, romantically or sexually.

Buck was too important to lose - too important to hurt. Eddie didn’t want to be added to the list of names that caused Buck pain.

Still, he had to do something, before one of his teammates took matters into their own hands. Not that he thought they would try to hurt either Buck or himself intentionally.

Maybe he could just come out. Subtly mention that he was not opposed to dating men, he’d always just dated women. That was partially true, anyway. He wasn’t opposed - he just never thought that _he’d_ be the one dating men, no matter how much his brain had tried to tell him that men were just as sexy and lovable as women. 

Buck had just gotten settled into the couch for their weekly movie night when Eddie decided that it was the right time to say something. Drop a hint. There had been no question about who he’d come out to first, if he ever did. Buck was the one person Eddie wanted to tell everything to, good or bad. 

Eddie had been stalling in the kitchen, the popcorn already in the bowl and steadily losing its heat, just watching Buck from the microwave. It was Buck’s turn to pick the movie, a task he always dedicated the utmost concentration to. That night in particular was a rarity because Chris wasn’t with them. Eddie had, against every fibre of his being, allowed his son to go on an overnight field trip. Originally, they weren’t even going to do the movie night because Chris wouldn’t be there to enjoy it. But once Buck spent an entire shift seeing how jittery Eddie was, checking his phone between every call, the younger man had declared Movie Night was back on and moving to his apartment because Eddie was in dire need of a distraction.

“Are you planting the corn in there? What’s taking so long?” Buck’s whiny voice, only half-kidding, floated in, disrupting Eddie’s train of anxious thoughts. He didn’t have to do it tonight, the one night in weeks where he and Buck had truly been alone in a house. But he knew that if he didn’t just rip the band-aid off, he would keep pushing it back and back until he was the best man at Buck’s wedding to some hot stranger.

“It’s not my fault your microwave is ridiculously slow,” Eddie tried for a joke, settling into his seat beside Buck and placing the full bowl on the coffee table. “Only one round in there left like half the kernels unpopped.”

Buck pouted, but he wasn’t too hurt if the way he eagerly stuck a hand in the bowl and shoved it in his mouth was anything to go by. “I bought that microwave in Argentina - it’s gotten me through some rough times, man. In fact, the only reason it didn’t beat you for the best friend position is because it can’t drink beer and doesn’t have an adorable kid.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, jostling Buck as the blond laughed at his own wit, nearly choking on popcorn.

“Whatever, _pendejo_. What movie did you pick?”

Buck scrunched his face up. Eddie resisted his urge to run his finger down his face to smooth out the wrinkles by grabbing popcorn.

“I couldn’t find anything that sounded good, so I kind of just picked one. I think this one is about cowboys, so that should be fun.”

It was, in fact, not fun. Not only did the movie have Heath Ledger, one of Eddie’s favorite dead actors, it had sheep and rural mountains and a lot of angst about kissing men that hit a little too close to home. He found himself shifting, constantly reaching out for popcorn even though the knots in his stomach had completely ruined his appetite.

Buck didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, enraptured in the movie in a way Eddie rarely saw in him.

About halfway through the movie, during an emotional argument between the two leads, Buck spoke for the first time since the movie started.

“It’s okay, you know,” he said casually, as if continuing a conversation they were already having.

Eddie looked at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to hide his nerves. “What is?”

“To want that.” He gestured at the screen with the hand closest to Eddie, making their arms brush. “It took me awhile to accept that, but it’s true. Just in case you didn’t think it was.”

“I know it is,” Eddie insisted, but still didn’t make eye contact. “It’s not like I’m homophobic.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Buck replied calmly. “But it’s always easier to accept other people before you accept yourself.”

Feeling his mouth go dry, Eddie reached out and paused the movie. Turning around, he saw Buck was already looking at him, eyelashes fluttering at half the speed they normally do.

“Do you know something?” Eddie asked.

Buck licked his lips. “Is there something for me to know?”

Eddie sighed, irritated, glaring at the coffee table because he knew if he glared at Buck he would immediately feel bad about it. “Don’t be coy, Buck, I’m not in the mood.”

Buck shifted, making their thighs push together.

“Eddie, are you straight?”

Eddie tried to swallow, but couldn’t get enough saliva to unglue his tongue and make it move. “...I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” Buck’s voice was gentle, the same tone he used for scared children on calls - _it’s alright, honey_. “You know there’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

Eddie huffed. “Yeah, Buck, I know there’s nothing wrong with it.” He didn’t know why he felt so frustrated. It was a relief, in a way, that Buck had reached this conclusion on his own, that Eddie didn’t have to say the actual words. But it would be so much better if Buck knew that it was _him_ that he wanted, not just any guy.

Buck mulled this over for a couple seconds before shifting gears. “I didn’t realize that straight was the default. I’d dated boys, girls, non-binary people - anyone who asked me out or I thought was cute enough to ask out, I did. My parents didn’t approve, but my dad didn’t like anything I did, and my mom was always super overprotective of me, so I didn’t think it was any big deal.

“It wasn’t until this guy, Jack - hulk muscles, buzzcut, total jock stereotype - asked me why I was into all the ‘queers.’ I had no clue what he was talking about. I asked him, ‘doesn’t everyone date the people they like?’ and he looked at me like I was stupid. ‘When the people they like is the opposite gender, yeah.’ He said it like he was talking down to a child.

“That day, I went home and talked to my parents. Normally, I would’ve just blown Jack off and accused him of talking out of his ass. But, as much as I disagreed with him, his words did explain why some of my partners wanted to keep us a secret. I thought maybe their parents just didn’t like them dating in general, not dating guys.”

By this point Eddie had finally faced Buck again, by the younger man stared ahead, lost in his memories. “For the rest of high school I only dated girls. My dad had made it clear that straight was the way to be, that it was against some rulebook to like people regardless of their gender.”

Eddie felt like the air was too thick, sludge as he tried to breathe it into his lungs. “Did you ever start again? Dating guys again, I mean?”

Buck finally met his eyes, the bright blue in them clearing as if he just realized he wasn’t alone in the room. “Yeah, once I got down to Argentina. I met some nice guys there. All they wanted was a threesome, but they let me live with them for a while when I bartended. It wasn’t until I got to LA that I actually tried dating, though. That didn’t out too well either, so I kinda just stopped looking for anything serious.” He shrugged, but his face was eerily neutral, ruining the blasé attitude he was going for. “Not everyone’s looking to commit, but everyone likes to feel good.”

Eddie knew Buck was telling him all this to make him feel better, to make him feel less alone, but all his admission did was break his heart. “Buck, you deserve so much better than that.”

Buck shrugged again, giving no indication if he was over his past or still working through it. “I know that it can be scary, coming to terms with yourself, but there are plenty of places where you can go to do that, especially in LA.” His eyes lit up suddenly as he sat up. “I even know of a few gay bars we can go to one night, if you want. Most of the guys there are just looking for a hookup, but there are some sweet ones, ones who’ll treat you right even if it’s just a one night stand.”

Eddie had been shaking his head as soon as Buck said gay bars. “Buck, I don’t want to do the bar hookup scene.”

Buck was undeterred. “There’s always Grindr or Tinder - ”

“I don’t just want any guy, Buck! I want _you_.”

Buck tilted his head, peering out at him through hooded eyes. If he was surprised by Eddie’s confession, he didn’t show it. Eddie could feel that he was breathing heavier than normal, but he couldn’t calm his heart. He felt like he’d just lifted an anchor off his chest. 

Finally, Buck nodded slowly, but his eyes were quickly dimming, even as he relaxed his posture and tilted his head to show off the smooth column of his neck. “Alright. We can do that if you want. I’ve done the whole friends with benefits thing before, and I’m willing to as long as it doesn’t make things weird at work.” 

Eddie shook his head more fiercely this time. Buck just wasn’t _getting_ it. “No! I want all of you. I want dates and fights and going to Christopher’s PTA meetings because you would make me even when I really don’t want to because they are long and boring and never get anything done.”

Buck blushed, darting his eyes away as his lips pursed. He lifted a hand and waved it over himself, eyebrows climbing incredulously up his forehead. _Why could you possibly want me?_ his demeanor asked, and it twisted Eddie’s stomach more than Buck storming out in disgust would have.

Slowly, giving Buck time to see his movements and push him away, Eddie leaned forward to place a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. It was the first time he’d kissed someone since Shannon, and the first time since before Shannon left him that he kissed someone and it wasn’t foreplay for more.

“You’re perfect,” Eddie whispered, kissing the deep blush on Buck’s cheek with the same amount of care.

Buck licked his lips, averting his eyes. “Clearly, you haven’t been paying attention.” His lips were trembling, trying to smile when it looked like all he wanted to do was cry.

Eddie sighed. Standing up, he discarded the throw blanket that had been spread across his lap and held a hand out to Buck. Without missing a beat, Buck intertwined their fingers and allowed himself to be pulled off the couch and led up the stairs. 

With a single firm kiss, Eddie pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed while he went to the closet doors and opened them wide.

Bucked watched intently, leaning back on his hands as he warily asked, “what are you up to?”

Eddie angeled the right door just so, then went over to the bedside table and flicked the lamp on, illuminating the loft in a warm glow. Satisfied, he climbed onto the bed and situated himself on his knees behind Buck, tilting the younger man’s head back to kiss him on the mouth. Buck hummed into it, chasing after him when Eddie pulled away. He stroked Buck’s jaw with one hand while the other slipped down to his waist, toying with the strings of Buck’s sweatpants.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Eddie began kissing a line of open-mouthed pecks on the side of Buck’s face he wasn’t cradling. “Nothing like some great mirror sex to boost your self-esteem, huh, _mi amor_?”

Moaning, Buck tilted his head to the side, struggling to open his eyes enough to take in his reflection. Eddie had positioned the door so the full-length mirror had Buck centered in it, perfectly capturing his spread legs and flushed face, the fierce blush quickly spreading below the V-neck he wore.

“Keep watching,” Eddie whispered. He slipped his hands up Buck’s shirt, reveling in the tremble of warm muscle beneath his touch. He took an ear in between his teeth and bit hard enough to leave indents.

Buck rolled his hips with a sense of rhythm that took Eddie by surprise. It shouldn’t have, considering the sexual reputation Buck used to have, that Hen and Chimney had no problem poking fun at him for, but the smoothness of it, Buck’s hips pulsing into his touch, made his breath shudder.

Feeling the stutter of Eddie’s chest, Buck turned his glazed eyes away from the mirror and looked up at the older man’s face. He pressed shallow kisses to his jaw as he said, “we don’t have to do anything tonight, you know.”

Eddie knew he meant it. All he had to do was say the word and Buck would pull himself away, and they would spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch watching a sitcom on Netflix that Exdie’s never seen but Buck’s marathoned at least ten times before.

But Eddie could make out the outline of Buck’s hard-on straining in his sweatpants, and no doubt the younger man could feel Eddie’s dick gaining interest from where he was securely pressed between Eddie’s legs.

Eddie released a shuddering breath before burying his nose in the crook of Buck’s neck. He smelled like the generic soap from the station’s shower room with a hint of sweat.

“I want to,” he confessed, gluing the words to Buck’s skin with a short swipe of his tongue. “This is just...a lot.”

Buck hummed, shifting until he was rotated enough to cup Eddie’s face in hands and leisurely kiss him, biting his bottom lip. “We’ll go slow,” he promised. “Want me to take care of you?”

Eddie frowned. “This was supposed to be me taking care of _you_.”

Buck slung his arms around his neck, nuzzling his nose into Eddie’s collarbone, his lips pressing into the part of his chest exposed by Eddie’s V-neck. “Who says we can’t do both?”

With some gentle nudging, Buck laid Eddie back on the bed. He slung his legs around him waist but kept himself hovering above Eddie’s form by balancing on his thighs. After placing a teasing kiss on his lips, Buck leaned back and whispered, “in case it wasn’t obvious, I want all of you, too.”

The younger man made quick work of stripping off their clothes, managing efficiency without looking desperate. He rolled Eddie’s nipples between nimble fingers until both were pebbled and tight. He tugged at one experimentally in one hand as his other drifted down to fondle his cock, his balls. Once he was satisfied, had Eddie moaning underneath his hands, arching up for more, he scooted down the bed to lock his mouth around Eddie’s cock.

Eddie liked that Buck was growing out his hair, and that he never seemed to gel it when he was off-duty. It made it easier for him to grab, crushing the wavy curls between his fingers as Buck used his mouth to draw obscene sounds out of him.

Eddie came quickly, with Buck’s teeth scraping his cockhead and his blunt nails scraping his scrotum. Buck pulled off in time to jerk him to a finish, letting come coat his hand. Unabashed, he wiped the mess off on his own thigh, grinning when Eddie pulled himself up on his elbows to look at him.

With a lazy hand gesture, Eddie motioned Buck to crawl up. Once he was close enough, Eddie gripped his hips and kissed him, swirling his tongue until Buck whined.

“I wish you could’ve seen how you looked, _querido_ ,” Eddie whispered. He moved his lips to ghost against Buck’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone. “So beautiful, so perfect, giving me what I need.”

Buck threw his hand back as one of Eddie’s hands gripped his cock, a thumb rubbing his slit hard.

“Do you know how sexy you looked with your lips on my dick?” Eddie leaned up and bit the shell of his ear. “Next time, I’ll have you suck me in front of a mirror so you can see how gorgeous you are, okay, _querido_?”

Soon after, with Eddie’s other hand pinching a nipple tight as he murmured complete filth in ears, Buck was coming, moaning loudly as his red cock spurt white drops. Eddie fell back against the bed, panting, with Buck’s come warm on his stomach. 

* * *

Later, after Buck washed them off with a warm cloth and both of their sensitive, spent cocks were hiding beneath boxers, Buck wormed his way into Eddie’s arms, flopping himself ungracefully over Eddie’s left side.

They should probably talk - what this meant, what they both wanted, when their first date would be - but neither of them had anything intelligible to say, stupid with post-orgasmic euporhia and drowsiness finally taking over.

Eddie closed his eyes, burying his nose in Buck’s shaved side, letting the prickly hair tickle his nose. _“Eres incluso mejor que mis sueños.”_

Buck purred contentedly against his chest. _“Sueñas conmigo?”_

_“Cada noche.”_

* * *

Nothing really changed after that night. It wasn’t until Buck teasingly pointed it out that Eddie realized that had already been dating - going out, sharing Christopher, sharing domestic duties in each other’s houses. 

The firehouse didn’t really react in any spectacular way. There were some whistles as Buck and Eddie joined them for a family meal holding hands, and Bobby had them sign some papers, but that was all the fanfare. Apparently, everyone had gotten over the buzz of their co-workers dating long before they made it official.

But Eddie got to kiss Buck whenever he wanted. Hold his hand, wake up to his face first thing in the morning.

That was what he loved the most. Knowing that every night he crawled into bed and woke up in the morning, Buck was right there.

And when he wasn’t there, he wasn’t too far.

One morning on Christopher’s spring break Eddie walked into the kitchen to the glorious sight of Buck at the stove, wearing nothing but a pair of Eddie’s boxers that rode low on his hips.

“ _Buenos dias, querido_.” Eddie kissed the juncture between Buck’s neck and shoulder.

Buck hummed, flipping bacon even as he leaned back into Eddie’s bare chest. “ _Buenos dias, Papi_.”

Eddie grinned into Buck’s shoulder. He loved that Buck spoke Spanish, enough to get by at least. It reminded him of his parents. His mother didn’t end up learning any Spanish until she married Ramon. By the time Olivia was born she was nearly fluent.

“Why put in all that work?” Eddie had asked when he was younger. “Papi would have married you even if you only spoke English.”

“I know, _mijo_. But Spanish is a part of your father, and this way I know every part of him, just like he knows every part of me.”

Eddie hadn’t understood then what his mother meant, why she found Spanish so important when it was just words. But hearing Buck speak it, knowing that every time Eddie calls him a term of endearment or expresses himself in his first language Buck will understand him, made his heart swoon.

“As sexy as that is, don’t call me Papi when our kid could walk in any minute.”

Buck gave him a wolfish look over his shoulder. “I didn’t wake him up yet. We could do something fast as long as you stayed quiet.” He was only partially serious, still holding a pan of sizzling bacon. While the thought of christening the kitchen was tempting, popping oil didn’t need to be anywhere near their naked bodies.

Eddie snorted, moving away to sort through the stack of mail waiting for him on the counter. “Yeah, cause _I’m_ the loud one.”

Buck gave an indignant noise, but Eddie ignored it. He flipped through envelope after envelope, bill after bill. After setting aside a set of coupons for their favorite pizza place, Eddie almost set the pile down again until he noticed a creamy square envelope resting in the back of the pile.

He could recognize his mother’s swoopy cursive, addressing the mail to both him and Christopher, which wasn’t rare when it came to his mother. He flipped it over, surprising to seal the golden seal, engraved with an entangled R and C. 

When he opened it, he felt his face break out into a grin.

_“Mi amor?”_

“Hmm?”

“How do you feel about going to a wedding?”

* * *

The ceremony was beautiful. For noon on an August day in Texas, the air was blessedly cool, greeting the guests as they entered the church with gentle swipes against their cheeks. White and yellow rose petals led the path to the white rose altar. Both of the brides were stunning, tears shining as much as the diamonds in their ears as they read their vows to each other.

Eddie was never one to cry, especially in public, but he could feel a huge smile on his face, cheeks threatening to burst even as pride bloomed in his chest. This was Christopher’s first wedding, and he didn’t really understand what was happening, but he enjoyed the occasion to dress up, and the promise of cake. When the guests clapped as the brides kissed, Chris’s applause was the loudest.

Buck was beautiful throughout it all. He held Eddie’s hand over their son’s head on the back of the pew. Each time Eddie would glance over, the blond man would use his free hand to wipe at his eyes, but a few tears still rolled down his cheeks. But he was beaming through it all, watching each bride walk down the aisle and recite their vows with quivering lips spread in a dazzling smile.

Eddie couldn’t stop staring at his partner, even if this wasn’t his wedding.

He couldn’t wait for the day he could promise his life to this man in front of everyone they love.

* * *

_“Edmundo!”_

As soon as they entered the ballroom, Eddie rocked backed from the force of the two brides tackling him at once. 

Delilah pulled back first, never one for hugs, but Junie kept an arm wrapped around his, grinning wildly as she reached up to readjust her veiled tiara. 

“Damn, time treated you well.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You two aren’t exactly withered raisins, Del.”

Both of his friends looked like their respective mothers, a fact that would surely get him whacked if he said out loud. But it was nonetheless true - Delilah had her mother’s Indian complexion and thick brows, her slim features dramatized by the loss of baby fat that left her face after high school. Junie grew her hair out, the wild red locks held back by glittering barrettes and the band of her tiara, exposing her milky complexion and lack of freckles, making her face seem older. There was a reason their mothers were deemed “most hitable” by the guys of their social circle. 

Delilah snorted, reaching out to thump him on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean your looks, genius. I meant these two handsome men you got with you.”

Buck blushed at the compliment, taken aback by the sudden shift of attention, but Christopher preened at the compliment, beaming at the tall woman from where he stood in front of Buck. 

Delilah leaned down until she could look Christopher in the eyes, but didn’t do much else, which Eddie appreciated. His son, although a sweetheart, was horrible at hiding his emotions and always reacted badly when he was babied in public. “You must be Christopher. I’m Delilah, and the monkey clinging to your dad is my wife, Junie.”

There was no disguising the lovey sigh as she said _my wife_ , and Eddie glanced over at Buck without really thinking about it. The younger man appeared to have noticed the tone as well and looked seconds away from crying again.

Christopher held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Delilah gave a small laugh as she shook his hand. “Would you give me the honor of this dance, Chris?”

After looking up at Eddie and Buck for permission, Christopher nodded eagerly and carefully stepped forward, mindful of the pure white skirts blooming around them.

Junie finally unlatched herself as her wife and Christopher started toward the dancefloor. “I call dibs on next dance with him!” Turning to Eddie, she squeezed his arm and added, “Nice seeing you, Eds. I always knew you’d land yourself a nice guy.” With a noisy kiss smacked on his cheek, Junie left Eddie spluttering as she beelined toward her wife and his son, throwing casually over her shoulder, “we’ll have to catch up later!”

Buck giggled, sliding closer, keeping the dancefloor in sight as the women of the evening surrounded Christopher, gently leading him to the beat. Neither seemed to care that his crutches made his movements clunky, Junie even going as far as to hike up her skirts and offer a ride on her feet.

“They seem nice,” Buck commented, slipping his arm around Eddie’s waist.

Eddie leaned back into the touch, knowing he must have looked like an idiot with the big smile dominating his face, even though he still felt indignant about his friend’s last comment. “They’re the best. Probably my favorite people from back home, besides from my family.”

“I wish I had that,” Buck said wistfully. “I don’t think there’s a single person from Hershey that I would invite to our wedding.”

“ _Our_ wedding?” Eddie repeated playfully.

Buck ducked his head, cheeks staining deep red. “I mean, yeah, if we make it that far. And if you want to get married again, that is.”

Eddie pulled him closer, tilting his head to brush his lips against Buck’s temple. He got a taste of the gel Buck slicked his hair with for his efforts, but he didn’t care. “ _Mi amor_ , you’re stuck with me until death do us part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a million dollars to whoever guesses what movie they were watching!
> 
> come say hey on my [tumblr](http://spideypetes.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> come say hey on my [tumblr](http://spideypetes.tumblr.com).


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